


With Teeth

by Michelle



Series: With-Verse [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Vampire Bites, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-27
Updated: 2009-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle/pseuds/Michelle
Summary: There’s a first time for everything, even for getting your blood sucked in a vampire bar.
Relationships: Orlando Bloom/Viggo Mortensen
Series: With-Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129283





	With Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> Title: With Teeth  
> Author: Michelle  
> Email: michelle [at] waking-vision.com  
> Beta: Nancy  
> Summary: There’s a first time for everything, even for getting your blood sucked in a vampire bar.  
> Pairing: V/O  
> Genre: PWP  
> Warnings: AU, vamp!fic  
> Rating: R  
> Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish! Unfortunately, what you read here is only a result of my wild imagination.  
> Author's Note: It was only a matter of time until I wrote a vamp!fic. Actually, I’m quite surprised it took me so long! The inspiration came from VOLA’s January Challenge “International Blood Donor Month” and yes, I realize I’m very late! While this story isn’t set in a known vampire-universe, it certainly draws from other sources. The most noticeable is probably Charlaine Harris’ Southern Vampire Series, because this story was intended to be a crossover before I decided to place it in its own universe. You can still see traces of Harris’ world, though.

“ _To be loved by a vampire is all you could ever wish for.”_ (Katie MacAlister, altered)

~*~

“You. Look. Fine.” Sarah’s voice was amused and Orlando stopped fiddling with his shirt, feeling found out.

“I do?” he asked, only partly fishing for a compliment. They were in a queue in front of the hottest club in London and he had been fumbling with the hem of his shirt, wondering anxiously whether he was overdressed, underdressed or had actually found a middle ground just this once.

“Yes, you do,” Sarah answered in a matter-of-fact voice that suggested she felt she was stating the obvious. “You’re gay, Orlando. I think it’s in your genes to look fine. More than fine, actually. Not like those straight guys who don’t even manage to wear matching socks if their girlfriend doesn’t help them.”

“I heard that,” Mike, the third in their group, grumbled good-naturedly. He boxed her lightly in the ribs and then drew her in for a quick kiss before Sarah could continue to grumble about his missing fashion sense. Orlando rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. These two had been together for over two years now and they still acted like a couple experiencing the first mad rush of love. It was unnatural, if sweet. Still, their constant flirting and kissing made him painfully aware of the fact that he was annoyingly unattached at the moment. 

The queue moved forward, getting the trio nearer to their goal. The entrance to the club was not far now and the deep bass drums of the music could already be heard faintly out on the street. Visiting  _Fangtastic_ had been Sarah’s brilliant idea. And even if Orlando had been doubtful about the whole vampire theme and had argued that she would have more fun with Mike if he didn’t tag along, Sarah had insisted that Orlando join them. She had even threatened him with five days of  _Big Brother_ , full well knowing that he hated the show and would do anything to avoid it. 

So here they were, standing in the cold November night and waiting to be admitted into London’s first and only vampire club. Yes, vampire club. As in real, undead, bloodsucking vampires. They were not only myth and fairy-tale nowadays. They hadn’t been myth for over a year now, ever since the big scientific breakthrough had been made public. An American scientist had – by chance – captured a vampire, poking and studying it. When he had made his findings known, he had been rewarded with the Nobel Prize. And vampires all over the world were very much public knowledge all of a sudden.

The reveal could have ended in a war of unknown proportions since humans tended to lash out if they felt threatened by a bigger predator, but the scientist in question had used his new-found knowledge to work on an artificial type of blood that could keep vampires  ‘ alive’. PepsiCo had bought the patent and was making billions, since vampires were forced to drink the stuff if they didn’t want to be caught and staked for assault. Some vampires had grumbled, but most seemed to see the advantages of being legal citizens. Quite a few undead entrepreneurs had taken their chance and opened vampire businesses, playing openly on mankind’s fascination with their kind. Vampire clubs were opening practically everywhere lately. Nearly every big town had one. London’s  _Fangtastic_ had only opened two months ago.

“Spotted any vampires yet?” Orlando asked and let his eyes wander over the crowd, trying to decide what he should be looking for anyway. Surely not every vampire looked like Bela Lugosi and spoke with an East European accent? 

“Nope, I don’t see anything,” Sarah grumbled. She was simply too small to see much, and being ensconced between Orlando and Mike certainly wasn’t helping. Mike chuckled and then pushed her lightly to help her stand outside the queue. “There’s one,” he said, pointing to the bouncer.

Both Sarah’s and Orlando’s eyes followed the direction Mike was pointing in. They gave a collective sigh.

“Oh yeah,” Sarah breathed dreamily.

“Not bad,” Orlando added appreciatively. The bouncer was tall and willowy. Very tall and very willowy. He was easily over six feet tall, with classic features and long dark hair that fell down to his hips. His eyes were green and seemed unnaturally fiery and passionate amidst his pale face. He had high cheekbones and luscious lips. In short, he looked like the posterboy for _Undead Hunks_.

“Erm.” Mike cleared his throat. “I don’t think I appreciate my girlfriend practically undressing another guy with her eyes.”

Orlando chuckled, but Sarah was still too distracted to react. Orlando laughed harder, which finally woke her from her musings. “Huh?” she asked, causing Mike to roll his eyes.

“Never mind,” he grinned. “I know those vamps aren’t getting it up, so I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“That’s just fiction!” Sarah argued heatedly.

“What?” Orlando cut in, his interest suddenly piqued. 

“Have you never seen _Interview with the Vampire_?” Mike asked in a conspiratorial tone and Orlando shook his head. “Well, it seems all of their erogenous zones are above the neckline.” Mike gestured vaguely to his neck and clanked his teeth together in a biting motion.

“Damn”, Orlando muttered and both Sarah and Mike laughed. It seemed vampires wouldn’t solve his problem of being unattached. He’d be stuck wanking in the shower again. Apparently, going to this club wasn’t such a grand idea after all.

Another half hour and several juicy comments concerning vampires later, they were finally in front of the club. The bouncer looked even more impressive up close. He seemed truly undead insofar as his face appeared totally passive. His eyes, though, were more than alive, piercing every new patron with a shockingly intense gaze. He looked the three of them up and down, obviously approving of their appearance. Orlando had chosen a pair of tight jeans and a black shirt that hugged his upper body in all the right places. Sarah had decided on a long black skirt and a blood-red corsage and Mike wore an expensive leather jacket over his t-shirt.

“ _Fangtastic_ will take no responsibility for any harm that might come to you while visiting the club. You will have to sign one of these,” the vampire said in a tone of voice that suggested he repeated the same sentence to hundreds of customers each evening. He was about to hand each of them a sheet of paper, but Mike waved a no.

“We’ve come prepared,” he said and presented the vampire with three forms, all filled out and signed. They had visited the club’s website beforehand and noticed that a signed form waiving their rights was a requirement. So they had printed the forms from the website, and signed them feeling rather adventurous and daring. Orlando had tried to read through the legal info, but had given up after three tries. He just had to trust his luck and not put too much thought into the fact that he had to sign strange forms simply to be allowed to enter. The vampire community seemed to take good press very seriously, because Orlando had never heard a whisper of something illegal going on in these clubs. So maybe nothing illegal happened. Or maybe vampires were just really good at covering up their tracks. He shuddered and tried to lose the thought.

The bouncer looked at the forms and then at their IDs, finally allowing them to enter.

“This is it,” Sarah said cheerfully, leading the way deeper into the club. The volume of the music slammed into them like a living being. It was loud, fast, with frenzied beats and wild guitars. Orlando could feel the bass drum in his stomach, steady like a heartbeat. There was also the slightly dark and ominous tone of the music, obviously trying to bewitch his senses. He adjusted his steps to the rhythm of the song, following Sarah’s slender form in front of him.

The music was what he had expected, but the interior surprised him. He had assumed there would be fake spiderwebs and Bela Lugosi posters, but instead the club looked almost normal, if a bit posh. To the left was a bar with an impressive collection of spirits. The center was occupied by the large dancefloor which was surrounded by tables and chairs. There were also quite a few niches where one could sit and Sarah headed for an empty one, sitting down in the booth with a satisfied grin on her face. Mike plopped down next to her and Orlando, still standing, offered to get them drinks.

“First round’s on me,” he announced, trying to look at his friends and not at the erotic and suggestive photographs they were sitting under. It was probably a good thing the light was too low to see much detail.

As he had suspected, Orlando’s offer caused Sarah to choose a fancy cocktail; one she would never have ordered if she were paying herself. Orlando rolled his eyes and went to get the cocktail for Sarah and beers for Mike and himself.

A beautiful girl worked the bar, and despite her delicate frame she seemed more than able to hold the fort. She looked like a pinup from the 1950s – her black hair arranged in a wavy and complicated hairdo, her lips blood-red ( _How fitting_ , Orlando thought) and her cleavage quite impressive, leaving little to the imagination. Orlando waved her over and shouted his order to be heard over the music.

“Two beers and one Sex on the Beach,” he ordered and the pinup-bartender repeated his order in a throaty voice that suggested a rather excessive use of cigarettes.

“Coming right up,” she added and placed two beers in front of him only a moment later. Then she gathered the ingredients for Sarah’s cocktail and Orlando turned around, facing the club while he waited.

It was quite full and he supposed they had been lucky to still get a booth all to themselves. The dancefloor was packed, even though the DJ played one weird goth song after another. The music coiled around his spine and squeezed. A clear soprano filled every last corner of the club, accompanied by a weeping flute, and Orlando felt goosebumps rise on his arms. He had no idea how one was supposed to dance to that music, but apparently the other patrons had no such qualms.

Suddenly, the realization  _where_ he was hit full force. He felt a little queasy for a moment, as if the soprano was doing flip-flops in his stomach. His neck tingled as if someone was watching him and he resisted the urge to turn around.  _Don’t be paranoid,_ he told himself silently. This was all perfectly safe. People came here every night. Normal people, people with a pulse. And after an enjoyable evening they went home again, without puncture wounds. Still, he could not shake the urge to try and tell which of the patrons were vampires. He tried to convince himself that it was just curiosity and not his survival instinct kicking in.

The bartender had to be a vampire, there was no doubt about it. After a short observation, he also noticed a guy slowly circling the dancefloor, his movements silent and elegant like a panther’s. At last he picked a girl, disappearing with her in the direction of the loos. Orlando tried – and then tried not – to imagine what they would do there. It gave him the shivers.

“And here’s your Sex on the Beach”, a sultry voice woke him from his unpleasant musings. He turned back to the bar, and a guy sitting four feet to his right caught Orlando’s eye before his attention went back to the bartender to pay for his drinks. When counting out coins, he inconspicuously glanced to his right, checking out the other man who was nursing a glass of red wine while he scribbled something on a piece of paper. He was quite a bit older than Orlando, maybe somewhere in his late thirties, and dressed in a dark-red satin shirt that did magical things to his pale complexion. His hair was dark blonde and a little longish; one of those haircuts that looked a little grown out, wild and tousled. Orlando couldn’t shake the unbidden thought that he’d love to run his hands through the man’s unruly hair, simply to know what it felt like. Just as the thought crossed his mind the object of his impromptu fantasy looked up and caught Orlando’s gaze, one eyebrow quirked in invitation and silent question.

Orlando blushed, hoping that the colourful neon-lights behind the bar would hide his red cheeks. He concentrated really hard on balancing all three drinks, only so he would not to have look back up and into the man’s eyes. Once he had a secure grip on the drinks, he practically fled over to his friends. But it was already too late. The other man’s pale blue eyes had burnt themselves into Orlando’s memory. Blue like an icestorm. Blue like a winter sky. A dangerous blue. And damn, Orlando was thoroughly attracted to their intense gaze.

He slipped back into the booth and put down the drinks, glad that his hands were not shaking with nerves. Mike and he clanked their bottles together and took a few gulps while Sarah sipped at her cocktail, sighing in bliss when it met her approval. They sat in companionable silence for a while, observing the dancefloor and scrutinizing the club's patrons.

“I think that one is a vampire,” Sarah said, pointing to the left. The person in question was dressed all in black, with a lot of lace and velvet. A heated discussion broke out whether it was only a misguided goth or a real vampire, and the three made it a sport to pick out vampires or wannabes until Sarah had finished her cocktail and dragged Mike out of the booth, practically begging him to dance with her. Mike, not a gifted dancer, threw a pitiful glance at Orlando, even though he knew he could expect no help from that quarter. Orlando shrugged and winked at Mike, waving the pair off.

Orlando was watching them dance and was therefore caught by surprise when someone slid into the booth beside him. He turned his head in the direction of the newcomer, startled into total inaction when he discovered it was the blue-eyed stranger from the bar. The older man slid right up to Orlando, as if the booth was packed and they were short of space, and placed his arms comfortably on the backrest, effectively invading Orlando’s private space.

Orlando took a deep breath and was just about to tell the stranger to give him some room, when the other man spoke. “Hi, I’m Viggo. We didn’t have any chance to speak over at the bar.”

Orlando stared, mesmerized. The club was loud, of course, but Viggo had not shouted over the din to make himself heard. His voice had been quiet, its timbre almost intimate. The words had trickled down Orlando’s spine like the caress of a lover. They made him yearn for more. Still, something about Viggo seemed off and his presence made Orlando nervous and skittish, even if he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

Viggo seemed oblivious to Orlando’s prolonged silence. Instead, he just looked into Orlando’s face as if searching for something. In the end, the corner of his mouth turned upwards just slightly and Orlando could not shake the thought that once again the man just knew what he was thinking.

Once Orlando had gotten over this rather overwhelming first impression, he decided he should at least try to regain control of the situation. “What made you think I wanted to talk to you?” he asked, lifting his chin.

Viggo chuckled, and even that sound was sexy. Slowly, Orlando realized that he was probably doomed. “I have that sixth sense, you know.” Viggo tapped his finger lightly against his temple. “I just knew you’d be interested.”

“That’s one of the cheesiest chat-up lines I’ve ever heard,” Orlando replied.

Viggo shrugged, not at all intimidated. “It’s still the truth.”

Orlando didn’t know what to answer to that. He stayed quiet, hoping half-heartedly that Viggo would lose interest and leave. Nothing of the sort happened, of course. Viggo sat next to him, close but not touching, and looked at the crowd. To a passer-by they would appear like a couple sitting in companionable silence. Only the passer-by wouldn’t know that Orlando’s pose was stiff. His whole body was on high alert.

“Relax,” Viggo said in that quiet voice of his, without taking his eyes off the dancefloor. “Why are you so afraid?” There was genuine interest in his voice, as if he could not understand why anyone would feel unsettled by his presence.

“I’m not...”

Viggo cut him off gently. “The sixth sense, remember?” He looked at Orlando then, his eyes molten with the promise that Orlando had indeed nothing to fear. The honesty in Viggo’s eyes gave Orlando pause. He took a deep breath and forced his body to relax. There was indeed no reason to be so nervous. No reason at all. It wasn’t like he had never flirted with a total stranger in a dark club before.

Viggo noticed the change in Orlando’s demeanor and rewarded it with a smile. “That’s better. Would it help if we started over?” Without waiting for Orlando’s reply, Viggo introduced himself once again: “Hi, I’m Viggo. And you are?”

Orlando experimentally returned the smile, which seemed to please Viggo to no end. “I’m Orlando.”

“Nice to meet you, Orlando.” Viggo repeated Orlando’s name with great care, as if he was writing it down in his mind. Each syllable was stressed and savoured and Orlando supposed it gave his name an exotic touch.

Viggo took Orlando’s hand, but instead of shaking it, he turned it palm upwards and brought it to his lips. Orlando’s breath caught, both fearing and anticipating what this unusual man was planning now. Soft lips were suddenly pressed against his wrist, just above his pulse point. Orlando drew in a sharp breath, unprepared for the sudden intimate gesture. He had been kissed on first dates, and he was no stranger to the occasional one-night-stand. But never had another man kissed him there, on such an unobtrusive spot, and the surprise he felt at Viggo’s advance soon turned into a desire which settled deep in his belly.

Viggo’s lips stayed immobile, softly pressing against his wrist as if this kiss was truly all Viggo wished. The lips were cool and their caress caused an unexpected shiver to run down his back. He suddenly felt like a live wire, as if his hand was holding on to a power cable and electricity was running from his hand right down to his toes. Viggo’s mouth opened slightly and Orlando could feel the tip of the other man’s tongue quickly brushing against his wrist. Viggo sighed into the kiss, a sudden rush of cool air on Orlando’s heated skin. When Viggo finally let go, Orlando was tingling all over.

“You smell good,” Viggo whispered, his voice deeper and richer than before. Aroused. He did not let go of Orlando’s hand, holding it safely in his own and caressing Orlando’s fingers absentmindedly. 

“Boss Bottled,” Orlando said distractedly, unable to fight the effect Viggo was having on him. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Viggo smiled and his eyes grew darker all of a sudden. Orlando was mesermized. He had never seen eyes like these. So pale and cool and yet passionate, as if they could pierce his innermost self. Certainly, no man should have eyes like these. It was ...

“... unnatural.” Viggo finished the thought for Orlando, smiling ruefully when Orlando’s eyes went wide. “And you haven’t even seen the worst of it.” 

“Ohh,” Orlando said, lamely. And a few seconds later: “Ohh!” It had obviously taken a while for his brain to catch up with recent events and make some sort of sense of what Viggo had told him so far. Why had he not figured it out sooner? He was in a vampire club, after all!

Out of the corner of his eye Orlando could see Sarah and Mike return to their table. They stopped a few feet away when they noticed he was engaged in conversation with someone else. Sarah seemed undecided how to proceed, waiting for Orlando to give her a sign. He could wave them over, effectively ending his tête-à-tête with Viggo. But did he really want that? Viggo intrigued him. The voice, the eyes. Sometimes, one had to gamble to win and Orlando decided he would not back out now. He shook his head minutely in Sarah’s direction and she nodded, dragging Mike away.

Viggo observed Orlando, waiting out his reaction and pretending to not notice the silent communication that was going on between Orlando and Sarah. He obviously refused to take up the thread of their conversation unless Orlando acknowledged Viggo’s identity.

“You’re... erm...” Orlando was at a loss for words. What was the politically correct term? Vampire? Too mundane. Undead? Too negative. Nosferatu? Too dramatic. Bloodsucker? Too unappetizing. Those Who Hunt The Night? Too kitschy. He was still running through his list of possible things to say, when Viggo saved him.

“‘You’re... erm’? That was not quite the enthusiastic reaction I had been hoping for.” Viggo pouted in mock-disappointment, his eyes glittering mischievously. Orlando couldn’t help it, he laughed at the playfulness Viggo was displaying. It made Viggo seem more approachable, and that put Orlando much more at ease.

“You mean, normally people either cower in fear or try to hump you?” The joking felt good and Orlando felt all tension slowly drain out of him.

“Something like it,” Viggo agreed. “Lately, it’s more of the humping than the cowering, though. Sometimes I wish we had never had been found out.” Viggo paused for a moment and his mind seemed very far away. Orlando wondered what the other man – vampire, bloodsucker, creature of the night – was thinking. 

Viggo visibly forced himself back to the present and mused, “Though, those vampire clubs are a really nice invention.”

Viggo smiled and Orlando could see sharp teeth just peeking out between his lips. He wondered what it would feel like to kiss a vampire.

“Would you like to find out?” Viggo asked and Orlando felt himself blush, thankful that the dim lights in the club were covering his flushed cheeks. Yes, he wanted to find out, but at the same time he was afraid what the kiss might lead to. And damn, this mind-reading game really made him uncomfortable.

“I’ll stop if it bothers you,” Viggo said quietly, leaving Orlando to decide whether he meant the mind-reading or the kissing. In any case, Orlando was reassured to know that _stop_ was part of Viggo’s vocabulary. Maybe he could get some action after all, without being drained dry.

“Definitely,” Viggo answered Orlando’s silent thought. He leant in close, his mouth just hovering above Orlando’s lips. Orlando could feel Viggo’s exhales on his skin and fleetingly wondered that a vampire would breathe at all. He matched his own breathing automatically, anticipating Viggo’s kiss. However, it never came. He waited and waited, until Viggo’s nearness became almost unbearable.

It occurred to Orlando that he was supposed to close the remaining distance between them as an indisputable consent to their kiss. He enjoyed the anticipation for just a moment longer, feeling the intensity of Viggo’s sheer presence, and then closed his eyes before he leaned forward, seeking Viggo’s mouth.

He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it surely wasn’t this intense emotion of life and passion coming from Viggo. Maybe Orlando had assumed kissing a vampire would be like kissing a corpse, cold and lifeless, but instead the moment his lips gently pressed against Viggo’s he felt like someone had switched on all the lights in his brain.

He moaned in delight when Viggo’s tongue snaked out to brush lovingly against his lower lip, almost shyly begging for entrance. His mouth opened at once, inviting Viggo to explore to his heart’s desire. Viggo was a good kisser, singleminded in his attempt to bring Orlando pleasure. Their tongues bumped against each other and Orlando felt a shot of electricity explode in his body. The sudden sensation drove all coherent thought from Orlando’s brain. The only thing occupying his mind now was the need to reciprocate, to kiss Viggo in return, and Orlando snaked his tongue around Viggo’s, finally joining the dance. They gave and they took and Orlando couldn’t remember when a simple kiss had left him this breathless. He felt his heart speed up when Viggo intensified his caress, gently sucking Orlando’s lower lip into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth. He felt their sharp edges for a moment and stiffened momentarily. Viggo noticed the reaction and made a cooing noise in the back of his throat, the subtle vibration moving through Orlando’s body from head to toe. He willed himself to relax again, to be pliant in Viggo’s loose embrace.

Remotely, he noticed Viggo’s hands wandering aimlessly on his body. His fingers were cool, yet firm, and the moment Viggo let his hands roam lower, rubbing seemingly accidentally across Orlando’s crotch, he had to break the kiss simply to breathe for a moment or two. Damn, he was aroused, and his hard-on strained against the denim of his jeans with each stroke of Viggo’s capable hand. Orlando groaned and slid sideways, because staying upright suddenly became quite the problem in his current state of hazy arousal.

Viggo followed his motion easily and their bodies aligned, touching in all the right places. They ended up half-sitting, half-lying in the booth.

“I take it you enjoy this,” Viggo stated, squeezing Orlando’s hard cock through too many layers of clothing. Orlando’s hips came off the seat, grinding into Viggo and finding the vampire just as aroused. What a pleasant surprise!

“You, too,” he breathed, delighted. So much for Mike’s silly notion of where vampires’ erogenous zones were. Mike didn’t know shit, apparently! 

Orlando’s hand snaked down and squeezed Viggo’s cock in a silent promise, which caused the vampire to draw in a sharp breath. Viggo moved into Orlando’s hand, seeking friction, and Orlando gladly complied. He cupped Viggo’s cock and stroked it firmly. Viggo was obviously enjoying the caress, if the mewling sounds he made were any indication. They were both still fully clothed, hadn’t even undone the buttons of their shirts.

Viggo went still suddenly and looked into Orlando’s eyes. Their faces were close together, only a breath or a kiss apart, and Orlando felt captured by Viggo’s eyes like a deer just about to be ripped to shreds by a vicious wolf. Now, his hard cock firmly cupped in Orlando’s hand, his lips moist from their kiss and his eyes alight with passion and hunger, Viggo looked far from human.  _His eyes..._ , Orlando thought in disbelief. They had been exceptional before, now they were plain inhuman. Their intense blue, which had been so captivating, had bled away leaving the irises pale and almost colourless. His features were sharp, his complexion pale, his gaze unsettling and Orlando knew in this moment that Viggo was a predator. Understood it with the arcane knowledge of the prey about to be killed. Viggo could snap his neck or drink him dry. 

But what surprised Orlando even more, was the realization that being at the mercy of another, being utterly powerless, was an intense aphrodisiac.

It was in Viggo’s power to kill him in the blink of an eye, but Orlando was convinced that Viggo would not use this power. Instead, his forefinger followed Orlando’s jawline, leaving hot lava on Orlando’s face. And Viggo’s eyes grew compassionate, loving even. “Trust me,” he said and it was no question.

Orlando didn’t answer, not with words anyway. Viggo saw in his eyes the moment Orlando yielded, felt it in the way Orlando’s body melted against his. Viggo did not even need to turn Orlando’s head to the side. Instead, the motion came naturally to Orlando. He bared his neck to the vampire in total surrender, closed his eyes and waited.

Viggo trailed tiny kisses down Orlando’s cheek, his jaw, his throat and the caress surprised Orlando who had expected sharp teeth to pierce his skin. He relaxed into the almost playful touches, enjoying the feel of Viggo’s lips on such sensitive spots. Viggo’s mouth arrived on Orlando’s pulse point eventually and involuntarily Orlando’s arms came around Viggo to hold onto him in a lover’s embrace.

Viggo hovered for a moment and Orlando held his breath, his arousal hard and almost painful, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Suddenly, the skin on his throat was pierced and the pain was sharp for only a moment before it dulled. He gave a hiss and jerked in Viggo’s embrace, but the older man held him firmly, his touch reassuring Orlando. He felt blood well up in the tiny wound, warm and alive. Viggo lapped at it for a moment, his tongue stroking the skin of his throat teasingly. Orlando moaned, helpless in the face of this new sensation. Then Viggo’s mouth closed around the small wound he had caused and he started to suck.

“Ohhh.” Orlando couldn’t help the tiny sound of wonder. While Viggo’s mouth attacked his throat, Viggo’s hand was busy further down and Orlando was hard-pressed not to simply pass out from the double assault. Viggo unzipped Orlando’s jeans with deft fingers and snaked his hand into Orlando’s clothing. The moment Viggo’s hand came in contact with Orlando’s aching cock, he groaned with unrestrained need. Viggo took him in hand, stroked him firmly and the sensation was so intense that Orlando hoped it would never end.

The spot where Viggo’s mouth suckled at his throat tingled liked a thousand pinpricks of desire. He was warm, content and safe in Viggo’s arms and his heart sped up. Viggo seemed determined to give Orlando the best handjob of his life and still had enough presence of mind left to suck lovingly at Orlando’s throat at the same time. It felt like sex. Even if their bodies weren’t joined in the usual spot it felt like sex. Like glorious, hot, passionate sex that left colourful spots of light dancing in his vision. That left him breathless and sated and heavy and absolutely content.

Orlando was much too overwhelmed by the thrill of being at the mercy of a vampire to reciprocate any of the caresses Viggo bestowed upon him. He just held on for the ride, enjoying each sensation and simply trying not to pass out from the sheer intensity of emotion. Viggo didn’t seem to mind, quite content for the moment with his mouth firmly attached to Orlando’s throat and his hand down in Orlando’s jeans. The younger man simply concentrated on his unusual partner, on each lap of the other’s tongue on his throat. The skin there was worried into being oversensitive and Orlando wondered distractedly whether Viggo’s unusual kiss would give him the biggest hickey known to mankind.

However, all conscious thought faded eventually once Viggo had him so aroused that he felt he would simply burst any moment now. He desperately wanted to come and urged Viggo’s hand on by lifting his hips in a silent plea for more. His own breathing became loud in his ears when Viggo’s hand started to do wicked things to his cock, touching in just the right way and with just the right pressure.

“Please,” was all he could say, as if all words had been erased from his mind and it was probably more his own articulation than anything Viggo did that finally pushed him over the edge. Viggo sucked and sucked and Orlando’s desire built and built until it spilled over and Orlando sighed in bliss when his orgasm finally hit him. He came hard, spilling into his Viggo’s hand. The vampire didn’t let go of his cock, but cupped him gently, riding out Orlando’s orgasm with him. Every wave and every aftershock. He was being held tightly, in strong arms that felt like marble and someone kissed his jaw and whispered something in his ear. He didn’t understand what was being said, but the words soothed him into blissful lethargy.

He came down slowly from his high, feeling tired and sated. He was dimly aware of the embarrassing position he was in: jeans undone, cum splattered everywhere and with a hole in his throat that was probably bleeding. He couldn’t make himself care. He had just had the best orgasm of his life and planned to enjoy the afterglow for as long as humanly possible.

He chuckled and fell into a light sleep, never noticing how the arms holding him slowly let go. His head was bedded gently on the leather seating of the booth. A last kiss was bestowed upon his unresponsive lips, but even that did not rouse him. Neither did he notice the item being slipped into his pocket.

Orlando woke some time later, alone (as he noted in disappointment) and still sprawled in the booth. He was just struggling to sit back up when Sarah and Mike found him. They teased him mercilessly and threatened to elicit every last detail from him with whatever means necessary. He didn’t feel like sharing though, and eventually both Sarah and Mike stopped their interrogations, understanding that they would get no answers from him tonight. He wished Viggo hadn’t left, wished that something more than a one-time-encounter could have come of this. Orlando’s finger tentatively brushed against the wound on his throat, expecting pain, but the skin was hale and unblemished. It was sensitive, though, as if remembering the earlier caress.

It was only hours later, when he was at home slipping out of his clothes, that a business card fell out of his jeans pocket. He picked it up from the ground and turned it in his hand. On the one side was contact information for  _Fangtastic_ , in bold red lettering. On the other side however, was a handwritten telephone number. Nothing more, no name and no request to  _call me_ . 

It was an invitation. And he knew he would follow it at the earliest possibility.  
  


_\- The End_

_(April 2009)_


End file.
